


Love Fugitives

by unironictrashbag



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Bottom Will Graham, Cannibalism, Choking, Come Swallowing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Deep throat, Domestic Disputes, Eventual Smut, Fantasizing, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Flashbacks, Hair-pulling, Hannigram - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury Recovery, Internalized Homophobia, Living Together, M/M, Married Life, Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Murder Family, Murder Husbands, Oblivious, On the Run, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Softcore Porn, Tags May Change, Tender Sex, Top Hannibal Lecter, Touch-Starved, True Love, Unreliable Narrator, Will Graham Has a Praise Kink, Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter in Cuba, cabin fever, headpats, please i need season 4, self-care, they're not married per se but i mean they might as well be, throatfucking, will "i have no idea how to reciprocate romantic feelings" graham
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unironictrashbag/pseuds/unironictrashbag
Summary: Will is badly injured after his fall with Hannibal. The two of them, now fugitives hiding out in Cuba, have to lay low in a beach house.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

"See? This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us."

"It's beautiful..."

The midday sun shone through the window, angled directly into Will's eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over onto his right side. As his left arm fell limply into place in front of his stomach, a deep pain from his shoulder surged through his bicep and into his clavicle. Will hissed in discomfort as he sat up and grabbed his shoulder.   
It took a few seconds for Will to open his eyes and see where he was. He definitely wasn't in his home in Wolf Trap. He couldn't smell the familiar scent of dog fur and cedar trees. Instead, there was a scent of ocean brine and heavy humidity flowing in through the slightly ajar window. Waves crashing against the shore roared over the muffled sound of clattering dishes from outside the room. A white and grey seabird landed on the windowsill. It pecked at the glass, beckoning to be let in.   
Will threw the sheets off his legs and moved to the edge of the bed, his eye contact with the gull unbreaking. The second he stood up, his vision went black and the tips of his fingers tingled. When he came to a few seconds later, he was face-down on the wooden floor.  
Footsteps approached the bedroom door and, for a moment, Will began to panic. He was in a strange place, he had no idea of where he was or whose house he was inside. With his one good arm, Will started to drag himself across the floor. The door swung open. From under the bed, he saw a pair of scuffed-up dress shoes. The shoes walked hurriedly over to the opposite side of the bed. Will looked up as Hannibal Lecter stepped in front of him.

“Will…” Hannibal crouched down to Will’s eye level. There was relief in his voice. 

“Hannibal?” Will sat up slowly.

“I’m glad you’re awake. I was…” Hannibal’s voice trailed off for a moment, “Are you alright? Are you hurt? How is your head?”

“Everything hurts.” Will groaned as he let his head fall forward.

Hannibal held Will’s chin and lifted his head to look at his right cheek. “Your stitches are healing. Good. How is your shoulder?”

“How did this happen?” Will let out a long sigh, answering his own question as the memories of killing Francis Dolarhyde and careening into the sea came flowing back like water through a cracked dam.

“You remember, don’t you? We would have much bigger problems if you didn’t.” Hannibal leaned in closer to check on Will’s shoulder. He drew in a breath through his nose. “Seems like the ocean finally washed away that god-awful aftershave.”

“Are you hurt?” Will lifted his hand slightly. “I landed on top of you, didn’t I?”

Hannibal unbuttoned his dress shirt and showed Will the bandages wrapped tightly around his waist. “I landed on a jagged rock trying to cushion your fall. It went right through me. I’m lucky it didn’t hit anything important.” 

Will put his palm to his temple. “How long have I been asleep?”

Hannibal pauses to think. “A little over a week. Which reminds me: You must be starving. I found some cans of soup in the cabinets. There’s chicken noodle or tomato soup. Which would you like?”

“Where are we? Whose house is this?” Will leaned forward and rested his forearm on his knee.

To Will’s bemusement, Hannibal scooped him up in his arms and placed him gently back into his bed. “Welcome to Isabela de Sagua, Cuba. As to whose house this is, I haven’t got a clue. I have to assume it’s a summer home since no one has lived here for at least two months. I’ve done some dusting and cleaning while you were unconscious.” 

Will, still shaken up by the fact Hannibal lifted him so effortlessly, tried to press for more answers. “But how-”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Hannibal flashed an inquisitive smile.

Something about his face made Will’s heart skip a beat. Hannibal’s hazel eyes seemed to pierce right through his chest and fish out emotions from deep inside his core. Will felt the tips of his ears heat up. “Uh… chicken noodle is fine.”

“I’ll get it started, then. Would you like me to bring it to you?”

“No, I can get it myself. I just stood up too fast and blacked out for a second. I’m fine.”

Hannibal shrugged as he stepped out of the room. “If you insist. I’ll be down the hall if you need me. I left some clean clothes in the closet.” 

Once the door closed, Will slowly stood up, hugging the wall as he made his way over to the closet. He pushed open the sliding door and grabbed the first shirt and pair of pants he saw. Will opened the button-up shirt to check the size but instead saw a small “W.G.” stitched into the fabric where the tag should have been. He put his arms through the sleeves and, to his surprise, the shirt fit perfectly. Will put on the rest of his clothes and, while heading to the door, startled himself by walking past a mirror. Will stopped and leaned into the mirror to get a better look at himself. His hair was unkempt, his eyes were sunken in, and there was a thick line of surgically precise sutures across his cheek. Frankly, he looked like hell. Will rubbed his eyes and sighed into his palms. He looked up at the kitchy, nautical-themed clock above the door frame. “It’s 4:38 pm, my name is Will Graham, and I’m in Isabela de Sagua, Cuba...” he whispered to himself, “I think.”


	2. Chapter 2

Will sauntered out of his bedroom and made his way to the kitchen. Hannibal stood by the stove, stirring a pot. Despite the fact that he was making a simple meal, Hannibal smiled.

“You know, Will,” he spoke over the classical music playing from a radio as he ladled soup into a bowl, “it really doesn’t matter if I’m cooking Gleneagles pâté for Queen Elizabeth or chicken tenders for a five-year-old. The art of creating something for the purpose of it being taken apart and enjoyed: that is what brings me the most joy in life.”

Will took a seat on the couch as he was presented with a bowl of hot, steaming chicken noodle soup. “Thank you.”

Hannibal sat down on the opposite end of the couch to Will’s right. “Be sure to mind your stitches, Will.”

Will stirred his soup and sipped a spoonful. The warmth filled his chest, causing him to lean back and let out a sigh. It wasn’t gourmet or high-class. It was simple, like what he used to eat as a kid. He remembered the times when he came down with a fever and had to stay home from school. He would sit on the couch, wrap himself up in a blanket and watch The Price is Right. Will enjoyed every spoonful of nostalgia until the bowl was empty.

Hannibal folded his hands. “It’s no silkie chicken, but-”

“This is exactly what I needed. Thank you.” Will sighed, rubbing his cheek. 

Hannibal cocked his head to the side. “Are your stitches bothering you? Your cheek is almost completely healed. If you’d like, I could take them out and put on a bandage.”

Will shrugged “You’re the surgeon.”

“Former surgeon,” Hannibal corrected. He stood up, grabbed some tools from a white box on the counter, and sat back down. Hannibal patted his lap expectantly. “Come, lay your head down here. On your side, please.”

Hesitantly, Will adjusted his seating position and laid his head against the doctor’s thighs. Hannibal went to work on Will’s stitches, just out of the corner of Will’s eye. He couldn’t feel any discomfort, only the feeling of his skin getting pulled gently. When Will felt Hannibal’s hands move away, he adjusted his position slightly.

“Shh, try not to move.” Hannibal placed his free hand atop Will’s head, slowly stroking his hair back. “I’m almost done.”

Any and all tension released from Will’s body. He couldn’t remember the last time he was given this type of tender affection, nor could he remember a time he ever felt as relaxed as he was at that moment. The feeling of Hannibal’s fingers tenderly combing through his dark brown curls put him at ease, like he could fall asleep at any second. His chest rose and fell with every soothed breath he took, matching almost perfectly with Dr. Lecter’s steady breathing.   
Hannibal set his tools down and picked up a large, white bandage. He unwrapped it, planted a gentle kiss on the cotton pad, and stuck it over Will’s cheek.

“There we go.” Hannibal smiled sweetly and chuckled under his breath, continuing to stroke his patient’s hair. “Good boy.”


	3. Chapter 3

“In other news, the so-called ‘Tooth Fairy’ serial killer, responsible for at least seventeen deaths including four children, was found dead. The body of 42-year-old Francis Dolarhyde was found in an undisclosed location by authorities Thursday night. The coroner’s report cites the cause of death as blood loss due to a deep laceration to Dolarhyde’s abdomen in conjunction with his throat being torn out by what are assumed to be human teeth. We will provide you the latest information as this gruesome story develops. Now, in the field, we have--”

The television clicked off. Will leaned back into the couch, tossing the remote to his side. “Looks like we graduated from TattleCrime.com.”  
Will stood up from his seat and walked toward the living room window. The wide expanse of the blue sea surrounding the beach house welcomed him. He let out a yawn as he stretched his arms and back.  
It had only been a few days, but Will was already getting used to living by the sea. He preferred to stay by himself back in the Virginia farmlands, surrounded by nature but just within arm’s reach of Quantico. But being this far away from the source of all his stress and anxiety with the one person he preferred to be around seemed okay. The only thing Will missed were his dogs. But he knew that they were in good hands with Molly and Wally.  
Will let out a sigh as he opened the window and let the ocean mist hit his face. After everything that happened with his incarceration, the Vergers, Abigail… he just longed for a simple life. So he rushed into a marriage that he wasn’t comfortable with just for some semblance of normalcy. It was all for naught since Dolarhyde ended up targeting them. Maybe, Will thought, it was better off that he was presumed dead. They didn’t deserve to be in harm’s way.   
Will’s introspection was interrupted by the faint sound of echoed humming. He stood up from his leaning position and began walking towards the source. Will approached a slightly opened bathroom door. As soon as Will looked inside, he met Hannibal’s eyes. Hannibal was in the shower with the curtain wide open. As he noticed Will’s eyes flit downward, his lips curled into a slight smirk. In a panic, Will slammed the door shut.   
Without hesitation, he marched to his own room and locked the door behind him. Will just stood in his room for a few seconds before falling backward onto his bed. His body felt hot and his face was flushed. Will unbuttoned his shirt and, as he laid his hand to his side, brushed against the large bulge in his pants. He sat up, looking down in confusion.  
“Why am I turned on?” Will thought, “I shouldn’t be. I’m not gay. I’ve been with women. But…”  
As he slowly lowered his fly, he realized that a woman had never made him feel like this. Not this… intense. Will undressed his bottom half and looked down at his erection. He wrapped his hand around it and began to slowly pump. With his other hand, he covered his mouth to muffle any moans that may leak out.   
“Why did he look at me like that?” Thoughts ran through Will’s mind. “He wanted me to see him. Why else would he have left the curtain open?”

Will became overcome with thoughts of Hannibal’s hands on his back, pushing his cock into Will’s ass. He knew it was wrong to think about this, about him, but he didn’t stop himself. Biting his lip, he imagined Hannibal’s fingers pulling the corners of his mouth as his tongue drooled onto the bed. Will unbuttoned his shirt even more and began rubbing and pinching his nipple between his forefinger and thumb. His toes curled as his rhythmic motions became faster. His hips began to sway back and forth with his strokes. His quiet moans began to form into breathy whispers.   
“H-Hannibal… please… I- ah… I want you…”

“Do you want me to take care of that for you?” 

Will froze, sitting up in a disheveled, heated panic. “I— uh— it’s not what it looks like!”   
Hannibal stood in the doorway and stared down at Will. He wore a pair of slacks and nothing else. His hair was still wet from his shower, dripping onto his shoulders and down his forehead.   
“I don’t need to be an empath to know how you feel, Will.” Hannibal crooned as he approached the bed. “I know exactly what you want.” 

Hannibal knelt down at the foot of Will’s bed. Will sat up as Hannibal held his thighs down. Hannibal brought his face towards Will’s cock and, sticking his tongue out, licked all the way from the base to the head. Will let out a pleasured moan as Hannibal lowered his mouth and took Will’s length into his throat. His head bobbed while Will squirmed and clutched the bed sheets. Will felt Hannibal’s throat tighten with every slight movement he made.   
He was already so close before Hannibal took over, so he couldn’t hold back any longer. Will grabbed the back of Hannibal’s head with both hands and thrusted himself even deeper into his throat. Will began to pant feverishly as he throatfucked Hannibal. Hannibal’s nails dug into Will’s skin, struggling to stay stable while his throat made gagging sounds that he couldn’t control.   
“Fuck— Hannibal!!” Will arched his back and with one final thrust, he climaxed.   
Hannibal’s eyes went wide as hot cum shot into his esophagus, deep enough where he didn’t even need to swallow. He pulled Will from his mouth, cleared his throat, and swallowed one extra time.   
Will was left a quivering mess of a man on the bed. His leg shook and spasmed as he drew in breath after shaky breath.   
Hannibal stood up from the floor, wiped a string of saliva from his mouth, and leaned over Will.   
“It appears you’re missing something, Will.” Hannibal turned the other man’s face towards his own. He closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips against Will’s before standing up and walking towards the door. “Oh, and before I forget. We’ll be ordering dinner tomorrow. I’d like you to help me prepare later on.”


End file.
